Love LockDown (11 page)

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Authors: A.T. Smith

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Romance

BOOK: Love LockDown
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“He’ll do. Can be a little shit head sometimes so just watch him. As for the others, I couldn’t ask for better friends. All of them are like my family.” He gleams at me, clearly happy to have this group of wonderful guys around him.

“How did you even meet them all?” I ask intrigued as to how he created this family, especially the American addition.

“Here and there. Antonio I met through my father, he was my dad’s associates son, been friends since we were children. Scott I met whilst in the US on business, he helped me on a job and the others I just recruited as I went along meeting them on various assignments.” I loved the way he never says what he actually does for a living, just keeps referring to it as a ‘job’

“Oh, okay, that’s cool.” I reply to him standing from my chair.

“Anyways, how about we get to Tesco’s so we can get the things we need.”

“Sure thing. Let me just go and chuck some shoes on and I’ll be right down.” I hop from the stool, leaving the room.

I arrive back to the kitchen in record time and see Leighton standing by the sink with his jacket on and keys in hand. “I’m ready.” I tell him with a slight breathlessness from running.

“Good. You didn’t need to rush Abbi, we have a while.”

“I know, just wanted to make sure tonight is perfect for you.” I smile at him.

“It’s not your job to make it perfect sweetheart, it’s mine. You’re just an added bonus.” He begins to walk from the room and towards the hallway where the underground garage door was.

The lights to the Audi saloon click as soon as we reach the bottom of the stairs and onto the concrete flooring. I get myself into the passenger seat and buckle up. Leighton steps in beside me and buckles his own belt.

“You know how to drive at all Abbi?” he asks me gesturing to the steering wheel.

“I learnt when I was with Lisa, my foster mum. I passed my theory test but didn’t do my practical. Theory has run out now, so I guess I need to do that again.” I chuckle softly.

“We’ll get you through it don’t worry. You need your own car, it means you can get around without relying on Me.” he beams a white toothed all American playboy smile.

More than anything in this world right now I wanted last night to have been real, he was just so perfect. I craved him with a ferocious hunger that was eating me alive. My feelings were crazy; I had known him for all of thirty six hours.

“I guess so. Hey, thanks for everything. All I need now is to get myself a job so I can help out a little with rent and stuff.” I smile back at him, grateful for every tiny thing this man had done for me.

“Don’t be ridiculous Abbi; you don’t need to pay for anything. But if you want a job, then you can always come and help at the restaurant a few times a week, wait tables, or help out at the bar.” He tells me, looking back and forth between me and the road.

“Really? Like for real, you would give me a job?” I ask excitedly, the thought of actually earning my own money and buying my own things is making my heart pump hard and fast in my chest.

“Sure, if that’s what you want. You don’t need to work, I can supply anything you need, but if it makes you happy to work then you can always help out there.”

“Oh god, Thank you so much Leigh, can I call you Leigh?” I question him, still sounding like an overly excited child at Christmas.

“Yes, you can call me Leigh.” He places his hand on my knee and squeezes slightly. I look down and watch whilst he strokes it for a second before removing it to change gear.

I squirm in my seat trying to relieve the pressure, trying to eradicate the images my mind had set for me, my chest aching for him to put his hand back there. Deep inside it hurt because I knew I wanted him more than he would ever want me.

We arrive at Tesco within twenty minutes. I open the door and swing myself out of the car.

We spend an hour and a half over filling the metal cage that is a trolley, before approaching the checkout with every grocery item you could need.

A total of three hundred and twenty seven pounds, thirty six pence later we have a boot full of bagged food and are driving back to the mansion in the Audi.

“Bring on tonight. Just a warning Abbi, these ‘lads nights’” he says using his fingers to quotation mark the lads nights part, “They can get messy so might be best to step away from it. Don’t want you the subjected to the filth that their drunk mouths project.”

I sit and think to myself, ‘oh god, I hope it does get messy. That would be one awesome fucking end to the night.’

Chapter Seven

 

 After arriving home, Leighton and I pack away the shopping, overfilling the cupboard and refrigerator space.

“So, food? What are we preparing?” I ask Leigh as I close the last polished door of the kitchen unit.

“Was thinking, maybe just get a pizza in? Would be easier for us both, that way I can catch up with some paperwork and you can relax and enjoy your freedom. I have a pool and spa if you want to relax there for a while.” He was munching his way through a very delicious and juicy apple, his teeth slicing through the fruit with ease. I was staring at his mouth like an estranged stalker.

“What are you looking at?” he asks me, seeing my distraction.

“That,” I reply, pointing to the ruby red apple in his clasp; I want nothing more than to have a taste, of him that was.

“You aren’t having any, it’s mine.” He tells me as he takes an extra-large bite, the crunch of the fruit echoing in the large kitchen. He is clearly trying to wind me up further.

I pout my lip at him, batting my eyelashes and forcing fake tears to surface. That’s right I could be a fucking drama queen, and what?

“Don’t even try that shit with me Abbi, I have a little sister. She has tried to pull that since she was a kid, doesn’t work with me sweetheart.” I continue to pout and even manage to force a tear to fall, sniffling exaggeratingly. “It’s not going to work, stop with the tears.” He tells me, trying his hardest to consume his apple, taking gargantuan bites, chewing quickly and then swallowing.

I try to stop myself from falling on the floor laughing, as he begins to choke on the huge mouthful. His face turns red as he pounds his chest, trying to dislodge the piece caught in his throat.

I move across the room giggling as I move behind him. I slap between his shoulder blades as hard as my laughing body will allow. “Cough hard you plank.” I continue to thump him as he coughs hard, a piece of apple eventually flying across the room.

“That’s what you get for being a greedy arse.” I tell him, poking my tongue out at him as I move past. “Next time you’ll know to share won’t you, Mr. Leighton.” I look at him in mock seriousness, “You say, Yes Miss Adams, next time I will share”

He looks at me, raising his eyebrow as if to say
‘You seem to think’
.

“Say it, or I will dispose of every apple you have just paid for, we share in this household now, Mr. Leighton”.

“Not the apples.” He begs me, pointing to bowl of shiny red fruit, his lips quivering a little.

“Then say it or the fruit gets it.” I begin to walk towards the bowl, reaching my hands to take it from the side.

“Fine, stop, stop, I’ll say it.” he says, his hand grasps my wrist to stop me. I want to laugh, laugh really hard at how serious he was taking it. For someone to love apples so much they were willing to beg, now that was a serious mental problem.

I gesture for him to continue, rolling my hand in the air, “I’m waiting Leighton.” I am literally biting my tongue to control the impending giggle fit.

“I will share my apples from now on.” He announces sulkily, no enthusiasm what so ever.

“Oh come on Leigh, you can give more enthusiasm than that.” I scold him for his lack of life.

“I WILL share MY APPLES from now on Abbi.” He says faking a big smile.

“That’s better, but there’s only one problem.” I tell him, tapping my chin.

“Yeah, and what’s that Abigail?” he asks me his lips in a straight hard line. He isn’t impressed with my scolding approach.

“Well, the thing is, I, well I don’t like apples.” I burst out laughing as his face changes to a horrible shade.

I jump as he bolts across the room, grabbing me, digging his fingers into my sides, tickling me with a serious amount of revenge. God it hurt too much. I can’t stop laughing as I struggle to get myself from his embrace.

“Now it’s your turn to say what I want you to say.” He tells me, lifting me from the floor and taking me through the house to the lounge. Placing me on the sofa he climbs atop me pinning my arms and legs down with his thighs. I’m not complaining on the view to be honest because his jean clad crutch is in my direct view.

“Yeah, and what’s that
sir.”
I mock him, not the best thing to do because his fingers really go to town on my hips and tummy. It makes tears spring into my eyes, as the torturous pain hit every nerve in my body.

“Say, ‘Leighton is the best; I will obey his every order and kiss his feet for the rest of my life’” I laugh aloud, his requests making a smile frame my face. He is so laid back and relaxed it does nothing but sooth my soul, even with the pain of his fingers tickling me.

“Yeah, because that’s going to happen.” He tickles harder making me squirm and almost cry.

“Say it.” he commands me, his deep pine tree eyes staring at me intently.

I am compelled straight away; from the moment I look into those irises I am gone. “Leighton is the best; I will obey his every order and kiss his feet for the rest of my life”.

“Good girl.” He reply’s as he climbs from the sofa, but not before leaning down, his face in line with mine, his lips within reaching distance. I pout my lips out preparing for his attack.

“Argh, you disgusting man” I shout as his tongue swipes the length of my face, licking me, a wet trail left in its wake.

“Payback’s a bitch. Don’t touch my apples.” He warns me, as he jumps from me and runs from the room.

I sit up and rearrange my messy hair, tucking bits back into a hairband. I can’t stop smiling; my cheeks are hurting as the muscles stretch in my face.

“Abigail!” I hear Leighton shout from the kitchen, I sit up and walk through the house to him.

“Yes
sir,
what can one assist one with?” I ask him, mocking his need for me to kiss his feet for eternity.

“Where the hell did you put my scotch, I can’t find it,” he looks sad at the loss, making me chuckle hard.

“Aww poor baby. I put it in the drinks cabinet there.” I point across the kitchen to the glass and oak piece of furniture that is laden with bottles of expensive looking alcohol.

“Good. I was worried then. The guys would kill me if I didn’t have anything to give them.” he physically relaxes.

“Oh no, nothing to drink. Not like you don’t have another ten bottles of drink in that cabinet.”

“Yes, but they are not 15 year old Talisker single malt scotch whiskey are they. No they are not. You will learn pretty soon what I like and I pay high for what I like.” He winks at me as he moves across the room, grabbing a glass from the cupboard before opening the drinks cabinet up and removing the scotch.

He pours a little slosh into the glass before swirling it around and then swallowing the lot.

“That is good. And that is why I do not buy scotch as Tesco’s.” he smiles.

“Where did you buy it then because you got it today?” I ask him, intrigued to how he managed to swing that one by me.

“When we stopped at that shop on the way home, it’s a specialist. It’s the only place I will go.” I shake my head at him.

“Sorry Mr. Alcohol Snob.” I laugh at him. “So tell me, why does a rich fellow like yourself, with a lot of money, shop at somewhere like Tesco’s, surely you’re a Waitrose or Mark’s kind of guy.”

“Because, Abigail, there is no point in wasting good money, that could be used for this beautiful stuff,” he points to the glass, “on groceries that taste the same in all supermarkets.” He smiles widely at me.

“Okay.” I answer simply before turning and leaving the room. A huge smile on my face.

“Where you going Abbi?” he asks me in that well-spoken British voice, the angry or horny one, and it makes me tingle all over.

“I’m going to swim
Sir,
do you mind if I use your facilities?” I ask him sarcastically, smiling wide as I do.

“Not at all, sweetheart. You enjoy yourself. The guys will be here in about two hours so do what you want to for the evening and don’t mind their loud voices.” He tells me, pouring himself another small glass of scotch and downing it.

“See you later, Leighton. Thanks again for everything.” I turn and walk from the room, going to my bedroom to collect a bikini and towel.

I arrive back downstairs and search the perimeters of the hallways trying to find where this pool and spa are. I don’t want to look like an idiot asking, so I just kept wandering until I smell the chlorine.

Pushing open a wooden door and then a set of glass frosted doors, I arrive at the side of a beautiful walk in swimming pool. I can feel the heat of the water before even getting in. I breathe in the steamy air, my lungs feeling clear and refreshed.

I look to the other side of the large space, seeing a few doored cubicles. I open one and enter. I change into my bikini quickly, leaving my clothes inside the little room. I take my towel with me and leave it by the pool.

If there is one thing in this world I am good at, it was swimming. I can go for hours, any stroke you ask me to do I can do. I can dive perfectly, slicing the water without as much as a drop of water disturbed. Call me Tom Daley if you must, but I am damn good at it.

I stretch my arms above my head, inhaling deep before bending my knees and then stretching my legs to pushing myself from the edge of the water. I fly through the air quickly, my fingertips grazing the water surface as they slice through the barrier.

I feel the warm liquid mold around my body as I penetrate it, my tiny frame spearing through the torrent around me. The tiny bubbles fizz around me like a mini Jacuzzi. I kick my legs bringing me to the surface to collect some air into my relaxed lungs.

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